


E Della Vita Si Mangiano Il Miele [Drabbles Collection]

by TheBlackWook



Category: Football RPF
Genre: As you can see italian football takes a huge part of my time zqesdfvgbh, Drabbles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly tooth rooting fluff zaserdfg, Multi, Slightly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-23 21:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackWook/pseuds/TheBlackWook
Summary: The lovers invent the sunin the cold claws of a barcheeky thieves of kisses and wordsthat escape from reality(Gli Innamorati - Umberto Tozzi)Collection of drabbles for various pairings, done for some friends (love you all <3)





	1. The Pippo Dance (Pippo/Bobo)

**Author's Note:**

> Just different drabbles and to put them all together in one place.

Filippo was on the couch, reading a book while Christian was sitting near, going through his phone, earplugs blasting some music. These small silences were rare but always welcomed and another proof of their bond. They didn't need to talk or touch all the time; just being together was enough for them to feel good. Filippo should have guessed it would not last, not when one was dating Christian Vieri, but he was put out all the same when he suddenly saw his lover move from the corner of his eyes. He was moving his forearm up and down, as if he was in a nightclub, holding his phone before him, seemingly to record his... Whatever that was. He was fond of that.

Filippo closed his book and turned to Christian :

"Bobo. What are you doing ?"   
"Dancing, of course !" He scoffed  
"You call that dancing ?" Filippo teased, rising one eyebrow  
"As if you know anything, Pippo." Christian challenged him, a smirk on his lips. 

Filippo looked away, done with his lover's antics and took a second before smirking back.

"Stop recording, please."  
"Why ? People love my dance !" 

Filippo approached Christian and whispered in his ear so only he, could hear.

"It's not your dance abilities I'm worried about, Bobo. But my dance moves are of a very special kind..." Filippo ended, eyes dark and narrowed.

Christian's pulse quickened for a a second, a hunger growing in his eyes, before his grin grew bigger :

"Care to show the rest of the world ?" 

Filippo sighed. He really never stopped, did he ? 

"Vieri, you clearly have _no_ decency whatsoever !"  
"So I've been told." Christian almost purred.

Frustrated, Filippo took the phone from his lover's hand and ended the video, throwing the phone on the other couch. Without giving Christian any time to protest, he was already on his lap, ravaging his mouth and a hand between his thighs. 

"Now shut up and enjoy the show." Pippo breathed in between kisses.

Bobo, for once, was happy to oblige.


	2. Better Than A Cookie (Marchisio/Barzagli)

"Claaaaa !" Andrea called from the kitchen, looking frantically in every cupboard.

Claudio came in, leaning on the threshold of the room, arms folded against his chest. He had a playful smile on his lips as if he already knew what was all that about.

"What is it, _amore_ ?"  
"I can't find my cookie jar !" He turned then and saw the younger man's face "You know ! Where is it ?" 

Claudio simply raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"You promised me I could take a cookie if I did all the laundry !" Andrea whined  
"You really did _all_ the laundry ?"  
"Yes !"  
"Then why did I see some of my things at Andrea and Gigi's ?" Claudio replied smirking.

The tall man stopped, caught red handed like a child.

"You know, next time, just ask Pirletta not to take selfies where he hangs his clothes." Claudio resumed.

Andrea grimaced. Damn that long haired diva ! 

"It was only because I was afraid to ruin them and Andre' knows how to handle them." He confessed sheepishly.

Claudio's smile grew softer as he approached his lover and encircled his hips with his arms.

"Is that true ?" 

The older man nodded, regaining some confidence. Claudio kissed him then, gently.

"Hmm, that's better than a cookie." Andrea cooed.

Claudio smirked :

"I have a few things in mind to do to you so you won't forget next time. A very _special_ training." He said while hid hands travelled south and Andrea barely stiffened his moan.  
"That's _way_ better than a cookie!"


	3. Down the Aisle (Bonucci/Chiellini + Buffon & Bonucci)

"Leo ! _Come stai ?_ " Gigi asked looking at his former teammate on his phone.

"I'm good, thanks." he replied, his voice low.

"You having a great time in Canada ?"

"Yeah, everything is amazing, we went to the Ferrari stand during a race. We did Niagara Falls today, it was magical." The younger man replied, still whispering.

"Why are you speaking so low ?" Gigi was intrigued and Leo was looking way too suspicious.

He smiled fondly, a smile that graced his face and made him look younger.

"Giorgione fell asleep." and true to his words, he showed Gigi the defender whose head was resting in Leo's lap, sound asleep.

"Oh so that's the _great time_ you're having !" Gigi teased him with raised eyebrows. "Did you do a great romantic speech by the Falls and then kiss ? Did you propose ?"

Leo rolled his eyes "There's a reason we called you dad and that's one of them." 

"If I'm the dad, who should I walk down the aisle, eh ?"

"Can you stop, please ? It's not like it's official or something, we're just thinking about it."

He bit his lip just after finishing. He was done for.

"So you did ask !" Gigi was beaming with a wicked grin.

Below him, Giorgio moved slightly, his face closer to Leo's stomach now. This brought a tender air to his face now and he softly caressed his face, forgetting his video call with Gigi for a minute. When he looked up, he saw his friend having a caring look, only for him. He loved them and it filled his heart with warmth.

"So ?" The grin was a soft smile now, the voice had lost its teasing tone.

"We're engaged." Leo simply answered, looking at Giorgio again.

"I only have one request Leo."

"Hm ?" he was lost in his thoughts that were only Giorgio, far away from his chat with Gigi.

"I'm walking you both down the aisle."


	4. An End and a New Beginning (Totti / Del Piero)

Alessandro had come. Of course he had. Talking through cameras and microphones on television was not even near enough. There were stories that did not belong to sports channels or viewers. Only to them, only for them. Francesco had not even said a word when he came back home after the party his teammates had done for him and he saw the older man on the couch, waiting for him as if he was living there day in and day out. 

They went to bed quite early, exhausted by all the emotions of the day and shared heated embraces and passionate kisses before falling asleep in each other's arms, entangled in every way possible. 

Francesco woke up during the night however and he left his lover's embrace to sit and it hit him like big slap on his face. He was done. Tomorrow and any other day in the future, he would not go to training, he would not wear the roman tunic anymore. All that was all in the past now. More than half of his life was now a finished chapter in his own book. He had not realised he was crying until the first tear dropped on his thigh. 

"Francè ?" 

Alessandro's voice was barely awake as he stirred. But as soon as he did not feel Francesco next to him and heard him sniffle, he was fully alert and put a hand on his shoulder, gently going up and down.

"Alessà..." his voice broke and his lover fully embraced him and pulled him against his bare chest. "I just... I only realised... It's over..." 

"Ssssshhh... It's okay." Alessandro soothed and kissed the top of his head. "It's a hard decision and a hard blow to take. I've been there. But it will ease. Time will heal. You will find new passions, you will discover so many things ! You have a whole new life ahead of you." 

He peppered his head with feather-like kisses before going down on his face, kissing away the salted tears of Francesco. He finished his work with his thumbs and added :

"Besides... Football will never be far. And Roma will remain your home, whatever happens. Nothing will ever change that." 

Francesco hugged Alessandro tight, burying his head in his neck, his breathing soon getting lass ragged and going back to normal.

"And see some good sides: we can see each other more often, now." Alessandro added with a playful tone.

It earned him a chuckle from Francesco who kissed him then, before touching his forehead against Alessandro's. 

"Thank you, Alessà."

The black haired man smiled and pulled his lover against him, going back to sleep and keeping him close against him, as tight as he could.


	5. Painting and a Mattress (Ferrara/Del Piero)

It was a lovely early summer afternoon. The sun was high and bright, casting its rays of light all over the town. Alessandro had just moved in in his new apartment and he had asked Ciro if he could help him paint the walls, which he had gladly accepted. They were close. _Really_ close. They shared everything together and ever since they had met each other, they were quite the pair, a team to be feared by their other teammates when they put their minds to pranks and jokes. They had these easy smiles whenever they saw each other, whenever they were even just together, these knowing looks and these tender touches here and there. And yet, they were the biggest frustration of their friends. All had put bets over the years on their relationship, but so far, they had all failed. It was clear something was there but they were apparently too blind, or too shy, to do anything about it, much to their teammates' dismay. 

"When will you receive your new bed ?" Ciro asked while going up and down with his arm holding the painting brush.

"Next week." Alessandro answered, focused on his own task.

"My home's your home if you want more than a mattress on the floor."

"I should be alright. But thank you , _Cirino_." 

They resumed their work, listening to the radio blasting the latest hits when a drop of paint fell on Ciro's hand. Looking at it, he smiled, a new idea in mind. He took his brush and quickly put paint on Alessandro's arm. 

If he had been surprised at first, the younger man soon fought back and they flat was filled with protests from each sides, laughter and paint everywhere. They both aimed and both stopped the other with their free arm, above their heads, so that their faces were' actually really close from one another. 

Time stood still.

They drowned in each other's dark gazes, breathless and the ghost of the smiles they had only seconds ago. They did not remember who made the first move and who met the other half way but now they were kissing, brushes falling on the protected ground. It was both soft and urgent and their hands, full of paint, were all over each other. It was like discovering again the firm muscles of Alessandro's chest or Ciro's well-defined biceps in a new light. It was feeling something else, something new, when they pulled at the other's hair, no matter how many times they had touched it in the past. It was all too much and not enough at the same time.

They began to move around the room, careful not to bump into paint. They ended up stumbling on the mattress however and they fell together, a whine of surprise escaping their lips before they laughed out loud once secure on the comfy basic bed. Ciro was on top of Alessandro and looked him in the eyes :

"Ti amo, _Alessà_." 

Alessandro smiled and softly brushed his lips against Ciro's.

"Ti amo, Ciro."

Here, they had finally said it and it felt amazing. They did not move, not wanting to spoil the moment. They did not care if the mattress was getting covered in paint. There was still Ciro's bed, anyway.


	6. A Fight and a Truth (Pippo/Bobo)

"Would you just hold still ? _Please_ ?" Pippo insisted, annoyed.

Bobo's cheek was bruised and he had a small cut on his lower lip. He was squirming under the disinfectant Pippo was using, not staying put and thus making the job of mending him more difficult. Pippo had not seen what had exactly happened, busy with getting some drinks, but next things he had known was that Bobo was punching some guy and they got into a short fight before they had been separated. He still did not know why it had happened in the first place and Bobo's stubborn silence was beginning to frustrate him. It was never like him to just not say anything. He was always shouting and laughing and joking and challenging. But right now, nothing. This did not help at all his case in Pippo’s eyes. They were attending a party from Pippo's parents' closest friends and not wanting to bear this alone, he had brought his friend along. But a fight ? The night was ruined and he would never hear the end of it from his parents.

Bobo flinched under his sharp ministrations. 

"Stop it, I'm almost done."  
"You're not the one suffering right now !"  
"Yes, I am ! From shame !" Pippo snapped.

Bobo fell silent, casting his eyes downwards. He sighed and gritted his teeth whenever the lanky man would touch his bruises too hard. When he was done, Pippo sighed and tried to calm himself, taking a softer voice, almost pleading :

"Won't you please tell me what happened, now ?"

Bobo only winced.

"At least, I'd know why I'm gonna be banned from family dinners for some time..."

When he was still getting no answer, Pippo cleared up the counter of the first aid kit and went to put it back in its cupboard. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in a bad situation." Bobo almost whispered, so much that Pippo first thought he had dreamt it.

The long haired man turned to him, hopeful. He said nothing, fearing this would stop Bobo.

"It's just that this guy..." He resumed. "He was..." He hesitated, looking at Pippo with something he could not quite place in his eyes, a mix of hope and fear and something else. "No, forget it."

He was standing in front of Bobo in an instant. "No, tell me !" He rushed. He paused, his face softening. "Please."

He had put a hand on his friend's shoulder, now slightly worried. Bobo looked at Pippo's hand and took a deep breath.

"That guy... He was insulting you. Saying you're ugly and all."

Pippo laughed. A real good laugh with his head thrown back.

"That's not funny, Pippo !!" Bobo protested.

"If I had had to punch anyone who called me ugly in my entire life, I'd be a professional boxer !"

"But you're not ugly, Pippo !" Bobo almost shouted, rising from his seat, a different fire in his eyes than the usual one. "Not to me. In every fucking way."

Pippo stopped, shocked. Was Bobo... ? Yes he clearly was and Pippo didn't know why his heart skipped a beat.

"You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen, in and out. Maybe it doesn't bother you but it matters to me when someone insults you. I will not let anyone disrespect you when you deserve everything."

Somehow, at some point, Bobo's hands had cupped Pippo's face but they had barely even noticed. Pippo licked his lips, looked at Bobo's, before he crashed their mouth together. This first kiss was anything but soft. It was heated and passionate, almost rough and urgent. They didn't seem to get enough and neither of them wanted to part. They had to, moments later, to catch their breath, their face still close from one another. Pippo smiled :

"You're still apologizing to my parents. But I'll explain. ‘Would hate to see my boyfriend forbidden to attend family dinners."

"Boyfriend ? I like the sound of that, Pippo mio." Bobo chuckled before diving in for another kiss.


	7. Accidental Touches (or not) (Pirlo/Buffon)

Andrea turned off the light and moved closer to his end of the bed, trying to fall asleep. Gigi, on the very opposite side of the bed, looked identical.  
Their bus had broken down in the middle of nowhere and they had had to walk to the next village where they booked all rooms available. There had been the usual separate beds room for two for everyone except one duo of players. So they had drawn straws and Andrea and Gigi had lost and thus, took the only room with a double bed. They didn’t really mind but they were not at ease either. They had noticed each other ever since they had first played together with the Azzurrini, only for it to grow with the years and as their bond got stronger. Sharing a bed had been unexpected and they were both excited and scared at the same time.  
Suddenly, Andrea jumped :

“Your feet are cold !” He protested.

Gigi mumbled an apology, half-asleep while Andrea settled himself again to fall asleep. He was quite restless however and kept turning. Until Gigi’s hand grabbed Andrea’s thigh.

“Stop moving, please.”

He didn’t think of it twice and moved his hand back as quickly as he had put it but Andrea could still feel it, as if burnt or marked and his heart was still beating a bit faster. 

Silence filled the room for a moment and at long last, Andrea was beginning to fall asleep, he had found a good position and somehow, an extra pillow, quite large at that, to hug. He was comfortable and repositioned himself, his hands slightly further down on the pillow until it actually squirmed and moved between his arms. He jumped and almost fell off of the bed if it wasn’t for Gigi’s hand catching his wrist. Andrea realized now, seeing the goalkeeper almost breathless that he must have been what he had assumed was a pillow. He blushed and they both apologized quietly before trying to be as far away from each other as possible, which was quite small a distance in fact, on this small double bed. 

They couldn’t sleep before the wee hours of the morning, their hearts beating fast and their stomach turning at the thought of the other touching him accidentally (or not). 

They did sleep however and when they woke up, they were entangled, in each other’s arms, as if their subconcious had tried to tell them ever since they had climbed on that bed, they would end up in a new situation. Waking up to see the one they dreamt about was good but sharing their first kiss was even better. Being stuck in the middle of nowhere actually had its good sides.


	8. The Pet Talk (Pirlo/Buffon)

“Let’s get a pet !” Andrea exclaimed.

A grunt from the other side of the bed told him his lover had heard him, and he was not pleased. 

“ _Andre'_ , it’s three in the morning and we’re drunk.”

The younger man scoffed. He always did whenever someone said he was drunk. No matter how much alcohol he had in his system - and he had had a lot tonight, he always refuted such accusations. He rolled over to wrapped himself around Gigi’s back like a koala.

“First, I’ll have you know I’m fine…” He slurred in the older man’s ear. “And second, I’m being serious. I’d love to have a pet with us.” His speech had regained some clarity and it was baffling to Gigi how much control he still had over himself despite far too much drinking.

“So you can play favourite and forget about me ?” He joked.

Andrea rolled his eyes and decided to gently bite his neck.

“ _Gigione_ , you’re an idiot. A lovable idiot.” He added before strengthening his position and kiss his cheek. “I just think it would be nice to have a presence when either of us is not home. I get lonely without you, you know.”

Gigi turned his head and looked at his lover with both a defeated look and a caring smile 

“Fine.” He puhed himself up ever so slightly so as to capture Andrea’s lips with his. “A dog ?” he asked.

“I was more thinking about a cat.” Andrea slurred before they both laughed. 

“Whatever you want, _amore_.” Gigi simply answered with another kiss.


	9. First Sign (Pirlo/Buffon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gigi and Andrea play with the Azzurrini and Andrea shows signs of affection for the first time.

" _Dai ragazzi_ ! Keep it up !"

The _Azzurrini_ trainer shouts at the team. They're doing a friendly against England and they're leading so far with a goal scored in the early minutes of the game thanks to a beautiful free kick from Andrea. He's not really supposed to be here, he's way younger than the other players. But there are a lot of injuries at the moment in the midfield and hence his presence. He's not really lost either, most of his teammates for the week are players he encounters every weekend for the youth championship. He's been paired up with Gigi for the room sharing. He's older but he's nice, doing everything he can to make him feel included despite him being younger : a true captain. Andrea is not much of a big talker but he likes him. Not to mention that he's cute, with his black thick hair and his puppy face and how magical he looks when he does a save, flying in the air. The player from Brescia hasn't really thought about love and relationship matters but he's pretty sure he has a crush. Embarrassing and cliché to the best : the young guy crushing on his cute captain. He'll be damned if he'll ever do anything about it, though. It's not like he has time anyway, he has just begun to be part of the first team group and he has done his professional debut a month earlier. He needs to work and focus. Not daydream about what these hands could catch instead of footballs.

He concentrates on the game. The english keeper shoots the ball to the midfield and his teammate can't take it. This allow the english team to initiate a quick attack in the italian zone. A winger centres for the striker but Gigi is already in the air, ready to catch the ball. Or so they thought. As soon as the striker realizes he can't get it, he charges full force on the keeper, sending him flying in the air and falling hard on the grass. Andrea doesn't know how it happens but he finds himself rushing to Gigi's side before he comes for the english boy, death glare plastered on his face and using every insults he knows to shouts at him, ready to fight. No one touches one of his own. No one touches his captain. And most importanrly : no one touches Gigi. He has to be held by two teammates for him to calm down enough so that he doesn't want to kill the guy right this minute anymore. For now. Instead, he comes back to Gigi's side whose face is trying hard not to show the pain.

"I am shocked by your flowery language young man." Gigi tries to joke, while holding his ribs where no doubt one or two or more must be broken. His breathing is ragged.

"And you're far from having heard it all, old man."

Andrea smiles. A genuine smile. A smile trying to hide his worried eyes or how he inconsciously take hold of Gigi's free hand. He never lets go when he's being subbed off to go make x-rays and check ups. Only on the line does he stop.

" Stay strong, Gigi. I need you back." A pause, almost awkward with the realisation of what he just said. "I better not be paired up with someone else for the rooms, you see. Too many efforts." He adds to save his slip up with all the phlegm he has left.

Something flashes in Gigi's eyes for half a second before a smiles too. Maybe he needs him too.


	10. Wine Club (Pirlo/Nesta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the 3-sentence prompt : "Pirlo/Nesta - suburban parents' wine club AU"

“So, like, you slapped them ?” Sandro asked while taking a sip of red wine from his large glass - courtesy of their vast collection - while he readjusted himself on the chaise longue ; the mischievious gleam on his face equally cause by both the alcohol and his profound love for gossips.

Andrea scoffed, sounding almost offended, while he poured himself another generous glass, not caring if it was only two in the afternoon : it was always time for (a good) red wine.

“Puh-lease, Sandro, I thought you knew me better than that. Telling them Rino Gattuso was Nico’s uncle was enough to make them shit themselves and reconsider letting their son harrass him.” They both laughed more than they would have if they had been sobber. “You see, they haven’t forgotten the Fork Incident.”


	11. High School Teachers (Buffon/Gattuso)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Rino/Gigi - high school teachers AU

It always amazed the younger students - and even the oldest ones despite experience - to see M. Buffon, the soft-spoken PE teacher, always smiling and and ready to help anyone, organise various projects with one of the terrors of the school: M. Gattuso, the Literature teacher, who probably was sponsored by throat pastilles given all the screaming he could do in a single period, whether it be from a passionate lesson or frightening annoyance at those who had dared not to bother with homework or politeness.

Stranger still, the most observant of students never failed to be left speechless whenever they would catch a glimpse of the two teachers eating lunch together, engrossed in their conversation and even see Gattuso smiling, smiling; and that was not even brushing on the time M. Buffon stopped by once and let a _“Rino”_ slip, causing a ruckus from the students who had clearly not expected such a revelation.

It was probably a good thing students had not yet noticed they came to school together with the same car every day or that Rino once showed up with a shirt far too big for him (or that time when they had disappeared from the cinema, leaving an annoyed M. Pirlo alone with a horde of excited teenagers): it was better to keep the students sane, no matter how Rino sometimes complained.


End file.
